Chapter Text
Marineford V
My breath entered and left my lungs harshly, almost tripping over my teeth, while I clenched the hilt of Raiu: this, I hadn't prepared for. While I was tired, it wasn't exhaustion that made my heart hammer furiously in my chest: simply, the dreadful reality of the last development had completely blindsided me.
That fucking bastard. Even as a more analytical part of my mind could appreciate the long con that Blackbeard had apparently managed to save, undoubtedly despite the apoplectic rage he had to be feeling at the moment, I was left substantially tired to observe as the embodiment of darkness worked with Sengoku and Garp against the Strongest Man in the world.
And I could do nothing to intervene, besides holding a bight tighter, with my free hand, the shoulder of Portogas D. Ace, whose hair had been swept up in a flare of flame as he witnessed the betrayer of his family engage Whitebeard himself: "How would your old man wish to die? Fighting for his sons, with the knowledge that he saved the one e set out to war for, or with the uncertainty of his family's future on the line?"
I didn't hesitate in using my words as hooks to wrench the psyche of Ace away from his blind rage: if he jumped in, the retreat would fall apart, Luffy would follow, and I'd be forced to do the same.
"Coby." the note of censure in my captain's tone was enough to make me grimace, meeting his dark eyes over the trembling form of conflicted Ace.
Still he didn't add anything: he knew, in that infuriatingly instinctive way of his, that I was right.
"Don't be reckless now, Ace." I used a kinder tone while I forced my eyes away from the clash among golden light, earthquakes, and pure darkness, my voice strained as I was forced to split my focus between the coordination of my zombies and what I needed to say to Firefist, "If you charge in, those who'll die will be..."
"Coby." Luffy's note of censure evolved into a flat 'be quiet' while he wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders of his brothers.
I simply nodded, returning my entire focus to the events unfolding: Whitebeard's naginata swept large swathes of the terrain, turning stable footing into pits hungry for those foolish enough to stand nearby, but among flashes of light that Marco couldn't always occupy, plumes of lava, and shards of ice, the Strongest Man in the world was being chipped at.
With Darkness hovering about him, Blackbeard fought with his unhinged laugh spilling from his lips, the unmistakeable force of a clash among Conquerors
"POPS!" the shout had begun unconsciously from the retreating forces of Whitebeard, but in a single breath, it grew as a living being, echoing over the din of war and the chaos of battle.
Then, from behind me, a flutter of laser beams rocketed the mess that was the fight ongoing between the Emperor and his lesser opponents. What? Turning my head, I spotted the uncovered form of the Roaring Nova, Usopp atop our tallest mast, and the new, hulking form of Franky with his open palms aimed forward.
The explanation for such changes was an easy one, and it stole a peal of laughter from me: Usopp wielded a hi-tech rifle connected to some sort of engine-barrel, while his sniper goggles were an undeniable part of his own face.
The lasers hit nothing, as the targets that stood further from Whitebeard were still likely using Observation Haki to a level that it'd take me a long time to reach.
Still, the fight went ahead, but where before it was an even clash, a mockery of all that the Marines stood for, now it was the sea slowly witthling away at a shore: Whitebeards strikes landed with the unrivaled might, but where before the risk of a crippling blow was ever-present, now batting away the barrage of assaults was all that the Emperor could manage. Darkness swallowed the earthquakes, holy, golden light rang powerfully over the shouts of the men battling, while the sky trembled under the weight of so many Conquerors in a single place.
The yellow-dressed form of Kizaru fell limply from the sky Marco did the lion's share of the work of keeping too many marines or Shichibukai from interfering. Kuma clashed against the distinctive forms of some of Whitebeard's commanders, but, even with my consciousness spread across the battlefield, or perhaps because of it... there was simply too much to follow.
I couldn't look only to the magnificent spectacle that the Emperor was offering even as he slowly lost ground, I had to keep up my psychological and more literal war against the unsettled marines, that seemed to be somewhat reassured by Blackbeard's presence, or at least because of its consequences. That won't do.
With a silent scream of effort, I focused entirely on my endless rows of puppets, remotely piloting the shadows inhabiting the too broken bodies to instead walk in the skin of the more recently dead opponents. I needed to find a solution, if only to stop Blackbeard from gaining Whitebeard's power.
This was a battle the like of which hadn't been seen in more than twenty years. Since his last clashes with Rogers, the world had forgotten the unique might of those that could claim the title of King, and if the father of the Pirates Era had been truly the pinnacle of what power could be, Whitebeard was a close second, and with his much longer life, his legacy, that even now shouted encouragements while they should have been busy retreating, surely marked him as on the same level of the long dead Pirate King.
His Will was in every ragged breath now: it wasn't that he couldn't allow himself to fall until all of his children managed to retreat, much more simply, in a way more primal manner, he didn't want to. And what could the world do, if not follow the whim of the Strongest Man?
So Conqueror's Haki coloured the air around Newgate, the sky splitting open as he unbound power opposed the sick hunger of Blackbeard, the dauntless determination of Sengoku, the lesser presence of Akainu, and the oddly hollow will of Garp.
Tilting his head back, he ducked under a blow that sizzled in the air, sidestepping a spike of ice, only to land his foot in a pitch plack hole that hadn't been there an instant before. Truly Teach had earned himself a dangerous power: but Newgate hadn't reached the top by relying only on his fruit.
The darkness that hid the cheap shot of the traitor shattered upon the unbending will of Whitebeard, while the aged Emperor met Garp's fist with his own: "What is this? Where is the Hero of the Marines?"
Tired and battered, the Emperorwì wouldn't stand for that insult: "Come at me with everything you are, Garp! Put your heart where your fists are!"
The vice-admiral, who was such in name only, was blown back just in time for Whitebeard to headbutt Aokiju, who tried to stab him while his naginata rang against Sengoku. Fighting at the unholy speeds of those with enough Observation to glimpse at the future, the Emperor let his rage resurface when the unholy laughter of the traitor rang again in his ears, drowning out the screams of his children...
The blow came before he could stop it.
Sengoku's open palm struck him square on the abdomen, the force enough to throw the one that until that moment had been dictating the rhythm of the battle off his feet, and for a split second, he was airborne.
A lance of ice pierced his unwounded leg while a flare of magma seared away the skin on the Emperor's left forearm, still, a sweep of his naginata turned the world between himself and his attackers upside down, and he landed on his feet with a second to draw breath while blood seeped through the white cloth of his trousers.
Still, his captain's overcoat was unmarred. Still, Whitebeard stood tall.
It was Teach that uncharacteristically led the charge: riding a wave of darkness that devoured everything under it, his black-clad fist warping the air around it only to be dispatched by the much more experienced Emperor. It wasn't that Blackbeard was a rookie, oh no, but he never had to put everything on the line, he had never survived in a world where he was the only thing between ruin and his dream.
For all of his undeniable might, Teach was undoubtedly lacking.
The world shook under the power of Whitebeard's fury: he had taken under his Jolly Roger this unique example of scum, and he had spit on everything that Newgate's existence meant. Blackbeard had grown like cancer under the cover of the Emperor's dream and now he dared to face him? Hadn't this scum listened to the man who had once been his father? Despite his age and wounds, Newgate was Whitebeard.
The naginata cleanly cut through the right forearm of the traitor, whose unholy laughter was now cut by a choked scream of pain. Distracted by the loss of one hand at the wrist, Blackbeard was struck down by a punch that made him crash into the ground, darkness quivering into nothingness under his body, and the world trembled again.
Filth like that, who had remorselessly killed one of Whitebeard's sons, could not be allowed to walk unscathed.
Blackbeard spat blood as one lung threatened to collapse under broken ribs, and the rest of the opposing forces took that moment to strike.
Once more, the golden light of Sengoku's palm was met by Whitebeard's naginata and the hurricane that it carried with the slash. While Garp lagged behind, Aokiji managed that which had been attempted endless times during that fight, and a long spear of ice nailed the gut of the Emperor, exploding into endless shards and opening the way through one kidney even as the Emperor struck back, shattering the legs of the Admiral with Haki that could not be denied.
Off to the side, after having defeated Kizaru in the moment of distraction offered by the laser strikes coming from the bay, Marco burned in blue flames as the magma parted harmlessly under his will. As far as power interactions went, Akainu simply couldn't hope to oppose the mythical firebird: that left Haki, but where the rabid admiral was powerful, he couldn't match the speed of the First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.
Even if the retreat of Whitebeard's forces went ahead, with all the chaos it entailed, for yet another second, the world seemed to still, holding its breath in order to witness that which was about to happen. Every child could tell that it the events to come would redefine the next era, and that its fate was upended on a knife's edge.
With a flutter of blue wings and a whipping of the long feathers of his tail, which shone black for a split second, the admiral was flung into one of the chasms that the fight had opened into the great fortress of Marineford.
Sengoku and Garp ignored the pained screams of Blackbeard and Aokiji with the unrelenting focus that only the true veterans knew, and while Whitebeard put his all into stopping the devastating power of the Fleet Admiral, Garp's right fist landed a liver-shot that made blood splurt from the old pirate's lips, and while Blackbeard rose again, apoplectic fury written on every line of his face, the Emperor was once more forced back.
Not far behind his back, the forces of the Marines were suddenly conflicted between the idea of swarming the Emperor and keeping up the even if the entire island was surrounded by a storm caused by the clashing powers, the sky directly over Marineford was clear, as if the eye of an hurricane, letting the sun shine uncaringly over the bloodiest war in recent memory.
One last time, the lines of the battle were drawn anew.
Just as a half-assed Marine force composed of those officials who had given up on keeping order among their forces began to march towards the Emperor's back, the fights with the Commanders of the Whitebeard Pirates came to a close, and as if ordained by a higher power, the undead marines surged forward as a single being, separating themselves from the pirates that were now ready to climb on their own ships.
Unbalanced by the sudden surge of opposition when until that point the screaming hordes of the undead were being pushed back, the marines stumbled in their approach, and while some tempted to bring everyone back to a semblance of order, laser beams were fired to devastating effects, aiming not only the officials, but targets that would reveal themselves if the marines under Usop and Franky's gaze managed to dodge.
Then, as if to spitefully add some color to the already apocalyptic spectacle, fire rained from the heavens. Far up above the line of ships, Ace showed why his monicker had been enough to cower countless opponents as he poured all of his anguish, all of his rage, and all of his gratitude, in his flames, which burned white.
The ice sublimated immediately, and the marines who had decided to turn back onto Whitebeard himself were suddenly struggling not to fall into boiling waters, while the vapor hid the Emperor from view.
In the increased chaos, the bodies animated by shadows fell apart under the assault of sea water that exploded all around them, and Coby grunted in annoyance when his connection was abruptly cut.
Maneuvering carefully, Coby's own shadow stood on its own for brief instants, drawing the eye of officers that were gunned down by Usopp, Franky, and the odd contribution from Mikita, whose power kept being tweaked, attempting to maintain its grasp on those balls of lead that left her fingers. Where at th beginning of the fight she could only throw them as if weightless, they begun to grow a tad bit heavier than what they should have been once they left her hands.
The pirates and Impel Down escapees that were trickling into the ships ready to depart too began shooting into the white clad-forms of their opponents, driven by the desire of helping Whitebeard or by a final act of spite against the Marines. When the steam receded, blown away by the unimaginably powerful strikes taking place over the ruins of Marineford proper, it was to the sight of a teary Marco flying away from the clash.
But even as he obeyed the obvious last order of his father, he gave proof of his indomitable nature as a pirate: while he flew, a cascade of blue fire fell over the titanic shape of Whitebeard.
The swathe of blue flames coursed over the form of the Strongest Man of the world, eating away at his stamina to rejuvenate the otherwise crippling injuries he had undertaken.
Whitebeard, Blackbeard, Sengoku, and Garp were the only ones still standing on the ruins of Marineford, uncaring of the marines scrambling for any occasion to survive while the few undead still possessed by shadows gave everything they were to maintain the mayhem that had allowed such a smooth retreat.
Akainu was lost into one of the chasms that littered the island proper, Kizaru was unconscious on a pile of rubble, and Aokiji stared in hopeless rage from a body that didn't obey to his command. Even if he renounced his lazy nature for the first time in his life, in order to stop the slaughter that was still ongoing, his muscles couldn't rise him when the bones they pulled upon were broken.
Dead tired but unbroken, Whitebeard faced Teach, Sengoku, and a Garp that couldn't put his all into his punches. How could he bring the wrath of Justice upon Newgate, when Ace was screaming bloody murder in his defense? How could he actually fight when the only thing he could feel when watching the Emperor was gratitude for saving his foolish grandson? Even his jaw still thrummed lightly with the pain from Luffy's attack.
With his breath heavy and uneven, with every bone aching, and every muscle on the point of tearing itself apart, Whitebeard stood tall back, and in a lull of the fight, when he felt his last son abandon the field, he laughed.
His voice rang deep and with purpose as he stood on the edge of Marineford's broken cliff, his naginata acting more like a crutch than a weapon now. His body appeared whole, but only Marco could use freely the phoenix's fire, and what little time he had left was now running away faster than Oden when there was an adventure to be had.
All the non-essential personnel had been recalled from the Blues and Paradise, knowing that a great clash would come into being at Ace's execution, the very reputation of the marines had been stacked upon the choice of executing Firefist, blood of the Pirate King, and son of Whitebeard.
The entire world watched from the cameras that the Marines had set up to showcase their victory.
Undoubtedly, now they were regretting their choice. On some islands, the officers had the presence of mind of shutting down the visual-snails, citing technical problems when it appeared clear that their show of force was turning against them. In other places, everyone was too tied to every event taking place at Marinford to think clearly enough. In many more, the locals, either aided by criminals, pirates, or carefully disguised revolutionaries, stopped the marines from stopping the broadcast.
So, ended Whitebeard's Era, with enough spark to push forward yet another generation of pirates, and the world witnessed every second of it.
Marco streaked through the sky not far from his father's body, the cameras unable to get a good focus on his form, and in front of the battered form of Sengoku, the bruised presence of Garp, and the one-handed existence of Blackbeard, the world held its breath at the emperor's last laugh. Nobody heard what he told to Blackbeard, nobody could read the lips that offered words that made Teach flinch.
But everyone heard his last words.
As the only one that had ever been described as Roger's equal, it was poetic that his last words would ring just as powerfully, just as undeniably true.
"The One Piece... EXISTS!"
Whitebeard died standing on his feet, and when the wind tugged away his captain's coat, it revealed a back unblemished by any wound or scar.
Then, in a blur, Marco's phoenix form soared over the Emperor's dead body, and in a flurry of movement too fast to be followed, the naginata fell into the shadow of the body, only for that shadow to be taken too, and for the body that cast it to vanish into fine ashes that immediately were blown away by the winds.
AN
(Yeah, Coby talked with Marco in the background to not leave the body to the Marines to be desecrated, who knows what will happen now?)
I kind of had to force myself to write this, and in the process, I realized something: while the concept of fanfic is clearly meant to follow this format instead of the actual novel-like one of the other stories that I favour to read, those other stories are infinitely better. The only thing that the best fanfictions have in common with the original, canonic version, is the setting, and often not even that.
This chapter has been ready for almost a month now, but I felt that there was something off with it: the answer was that there is something off with the entire fic. While it worked well enough, rewriting in 100k words the entirety of Paradise completely erased any investment I had into the story (nevermind the almost verbatim following of canon, which truly sickens me). In short, I loved the easy speed that I could keep up for this story, the kind of 0-effort that I dedicated to it (I wrote it while watching movies or whatever), and now that I look back on it, I realize that I would have preferred to dedicate the same amount of time to writing two chapters for Meddling Giant, which is proceeding at a slug's pace.
Still, here we are, rushed as all the other chapters, but finished. Maybe I'll have more fun with the sequel... but until this point of canon, I was able to neatly sidestep the bullshittery that is Nika, something that becomes increasingly more difficult as Oda took for the first time (besides the drawing of women) the same road of everyone else, turning the awesome adventure of Luffy into a prophesied slugfest.
Still, this chapter marks the end proper of this fic: I will eventually release an epilogue, maybe with the new bounties and an edition of the News Coo, setting up the power ups of the crew before the final stretch towards the throne for Luffy. If nothing else, I'll post the sequence of events I expect for that sequel, as I don't think I'll ever get around to write it.
I'm trying to find again a good routine for writing, but it's kind of hard at the moment: still, let me know what you think!